Disclaimer: Resident Evil and the character Billy Coen are copyrighted by Capcom. The author of this work is making no profit from this fan-fiction story and is not challenging the status of the copyright holders.

---

"You're welcome... jackass." I'm trying to keep the levity going. The last thing we need is to sink again... but I think I'm failing miserably.

Scratch that; I *know* I'm failing miserably.

I look down at my hands, which are shaking like crazy. I have to think on the positive side, the one that doesn't remind me of the positive chance that I'm going to be zombie-chow.

"We're in good shape," I whisper and pull out a fresh cigarette. "We're alive, uninfected, and armed." I'm saying this more for my own benefit than his.

The Marine sighs, sensing my changing mood. "You're right... we just need a mode of escape."

Ah, an opening I can fill. I hope.

"Do you know how to fly a helicopter?" I'm not going to let myself think that this slim thread of hope might be dashed before it goes into the good green areas.

I could almost kiss him when his face loses some of its severity. That means I've found a 'happy button'. Happy things for him right now mean happy things for me, too. "It's been a while, but probably."

"Then we're in luck," I declare with a forced smile, "because the hospital has two."

Billy gives me a look that I've equated in the past with 'Explain, please.' No problem. I know this answer quite readily.

"We're in the central location of several small towns. The hospital here is the largest, therefore, it's where the emergency medical rescue choppers roost." I manage an even bigger smile while leaning back on the couch with my smoke. If I don't think of the possible downside, it is something to better my mood. "You just thank your higher power I knew about it... otherwise, we'd be chasing our tails like enthusiastic, but very dense, puppies..."

He almost chokes on his lungful of smoke at that but gives me an all-too-serious look. "Honey," he tells me after a moment," I told God to kiss my ass the day they decided to dress me up as Hannibal Lecter's stunt double."

Whoah...

That was a serious bit of abbreviated back history. The Marine's seen the not so pleasant side of a psychiatric ward. Odd, though, because he doesn't seem crazy to me.

Then again... Maybe that's a good thing considering our circumstances.

"Everything happens for a reason," I tell him softly before pulling from my own cigarette. "Even if we don't know the reason at the time."

"I almost wish I had your faith," comes the equally soft response.

"You do," I retort, pointing at him briefly. "Faith doesn't have to be in any higher power... You can put it in almost anyone or thing."

Billy's eyes are staring at that big gun in his hands, turning it over and over. "Then... maybe I do still have some faith left." His voice is quiet, like he's talking to himself. "The only thing that hasn't failed me so far... is my training."

"There you go," I breathe out. "That faith has gotten us this far. Don't lose it." I have to take some of the seriousness out of this, otherwise, we're going to spend all night angsting. Angst will get us killed a lot faster. "I look at it this way, I *know* you had to have been sent by my Goddess."

His eyebrow quirks a little as his eyes drag back up to me. "Oh? How do you figure?"

"Easy," I say, pulling the last drag from my smoke and grinning like the Cheshire cat. "If she didn't send you... you'd have been butt-ugly." I toss the spent cigarette on the floor and crush it out with my good foot, listening to him chuckle. There, that's better.

Looks like I figured out my role in this odd relationship beyond being the improvised medic and resident gimp – comedic relief. Fine. Okay. I can deal with that. Too much seriousness hurts peoples' feelings.

He's now reloading the big gun from the side pocket of my backpack. I take a few minutes to get more shells into the shotgun, myself. Better safe than sorry.

"Well, we've done our angsting for the night. I think it's time we got the hell out of Dodge." I grin at Billy as I stand up and sling the backpack over my shoulder. "I've got a grenade launcher, you've got a... a..."

"Magnum," he supplies helpfully.

"You've got a magnum," I continue, grinning even more. "All we need is some Jack and we've got a party."

That gets a grin from him in return. "So, let's get this party rolling."

I look at my dwindling supply of grenade rounds, biting my lip. "Let's try not to run into anymore hordes of zombies... I wanna save these babies for when we really need them."

Billy nods at the wisdom of my request. "You and me both."

He unbarricades and unlocks the door, then slips out ahead of me. We both cut through the remains of the store and then it's back out into the night. I frown, looking around, then turn to him. "Maybe we should hit the roof for a better view. I want to show you where the hospital is."

He nods again. "Okay." I'm not telling him the real reason why. Just in case I eat it along the way, he needs to know how to get there.

So, we scout around the building and find a ladder out back. Fortunately, this is a fairly zombie-free zone, so he helps me get up to it with another calf-boost and then climbs on after me. It takes me a while to get topside, but once I do, I hustle out of the way so he can get situated on his feet again.

I take a few seconds to appreciate the view, such as it is with fires blazing here and there around town, and then point off in the distance. "There! That's the hospital." Damn, but that looks very far away from here. Oiy. I ain't walking the whole way.

"Looks like quite a jaunt. I'm sure we can get our hands on a vehicle somewhere." Billy seems to be reading my thoughts now... Sheesh... he'd better not crawl around in my head too much or he might find something there he really doesn't want to see.

I start explaining about different routes to get there, landmarks along the way, that kind of thing. He's giving non-commital responses, so I don't stop jabbering. I don't realize that he's not paying a damn bit of attention to me until I get knocked to the side.

"Get down!"

Yelping, I roll out of the way until I can look past the blinding colors of pain that race behind my eyes. They clear just in time for me to see yet another very ugly monstrosity barreling towards us across the rooftop. Oh, fuck... this thing is a LOT bigger than that obscene tongue-flicking thing at the police station.

I watch Billy whip out that magnum and start firing, definitely getting and holding the beast's attention. Dear gods, but this thing is worse than the other one. There's little pulses all over it's... skin? Like a few dozen beating hearts... and it's got horns like a bull... and a huge, monstrosity of a tail.

Which is coming down for me.

I manage to roll out of the way in time to save myself some broken ribs, though barely, and pull myself to a shaky standing position. This is SO not looking good. I have no idea what the thing is, or was for that matter, I just know that it's not friendly. Billy's pinned under it and I can hear him yelling in pain... which means I've got to do something. Ripping the gun from my leather jeans, I level it and fire at the creature's back.

There's an impact, but the fucker doesn't even twitch. Shit. Looks like I gotta go with the grenades. I just hope to God or Goddess that Billy doesn't get hit, too. I've only got four of the grenade rounds left so I have to make this count. Barely conscious of the heavy weight in my hands, I lift and fire.

Oh, boy... Damn did that work if its scream means anything. There's just one problem and I should have already been mentally prepared for that eventuality.

Now, it's after me.

I back up, trying to get another grenade loaded, and hear Billy run off a string of curses. I can hear the magnum fire, and suddenly, I'm not on the menu anymore. It jerks back around to go after him – again. Out of the corner of my eye, and just a split-second too late, I see the tail coming at me.

The impact is something like being slammed into with an aluminum baseball bat. It fucking hurts. It also sends me off the rooftop with a very frightened "Shit!"

Dazedly, I catch sight of Billy's face for a moment as he looks over the edge. He's just as shocked as I am by what just happened. But, that's the last thing I see before agony explodes all over my body.

---

Oh shit... oh fuck... God-damn...

I come to, body screaming in pain and soaking wet all over. Other than the fact I feel like I've been trampled on by a pro football team, I guess I shouldn't bitch much. My ankle feels a million times worse and there's a stabbing pain in my back.

But, I know one thing – that just means I'm alive.

Oh fucking hell... Where's Billy?!?

That's the thought that gets my big ass in gear. I open my eyes, looking up, and see that I'm in some kind of building. Moonlight filters in from a broken skylight which is obviously where I fell through.

Thank whoever's watching over me... It's a god-damn bed store. From the looks of things, I came down on a stack of mattresses, bounced off, and hit a waterbed... which apparently exploded on impact.

Not gonna bitch. Nope. No way, no how.

It's slow going, but I get up and take stock. I've still got the shotgun and the grenade launcher, but I lost the pistol somewhere. Hey, no problem... I sucked with it anyway. Two grenade rounds left, but I'm sitting damn pretty on shotgun shells.

Okay, now think... Where would Billy be? I've got the majority of the magnum rounds in my backpack, but I know for a fact that he had four spare clips.

Fuck... can't concentrate... I'd better get another painkiller in me fast. Then, fuzzy brain or not, I'm getting a damn truck under me.

One darvocet later, I'm double-checking the shotgun like Billy did earlier. He probably thinks I'm dead, so he'll move on and get to the hospital. I've just got to get to him in time. I hobble my ass to the door leading outside and lean against it. My fingers slowly reach up for the lock, to get it open, but I can see how much they're shaking.

I can do this. All I have to do is get to a truck or something, without getting bit or killed, and find Billy.

Oh, who am I kidding? I probably won't last five minutes out there alone.

Then again, by some miracle, I'm still alive after that fall... so maybe I can pull this off.

Maybe.

Only one way to find out for sure.

I open the door and gimp out, looking this way and that to get my bearings. In the distance, I can hear the sound of a gun going off. It's a distinctive sound, too... the same one that Billy's gun makes.

He's alive!

Fortunately, my sneakers don't make much noise if I'm careful. That means I can avoid most of the zombies I'm finding as I maneuver around, looking for a viable vehicle. My eyes spot a likely candidate about a block away, an SUV, and I hustle over to it.

It's still running, and there's a figure sitting behind the wheel. I edge closer and reach out, opening the driver's side door to let the body fall out. Now that I've got a clue, I know for a fact that it's a zombie. But, the little shit is trying that sucker-play of waiting for me to step over it.

Puh-lease. I'm going crazy, not going stupid. I ain't falling for that. Before I deal with it, though, I move around to make sure the rest of the SUV is empty.

Once I'm satisfied, I come back and obliterate dude's head with a single blast from the shotgun. Then, it's a mad dash into the vehicle and getting the door shut before the rest of the zombies zero in on where I'm at. I try leaning against the seat and immediately yelp in pain. That spot on my back doesn't like pressure. Ouchie.

Mental note to self: when I get to my apartment and into bed, sleep on my stomach.

One glance at the gas guage shows that I have more than enough to get to the hospital, even if I have to take the scenic route. Thank the gods this is an automatic; manual would kill me right now. My knowledge of town is working to my advantage here, because I know shortcuts that they just don't show on a map.

Another advantage is the height of the vehicle... Because I wind up having to make my own shortcuts more than once. Over some medians... through a couple of yards... across a field...

Sue me for being single-minded – my ass is on the line here.

I get across town in record time, all things considered, and start cruising carefully up the street towards the hospital. A few zombies make the mistake of crossing my path and I don't hesitate to run them down. If something goes wrong, that's just that much fewer to have to deal with later.

My road ends about a half mile from the hospital where two big rigs and a construction truck have all created an impasse. Which means I'm on foot again. Carefully, I ease out of the SUV and start limping along, slipping between the rigs to get through.

I freeze though, when I hear a couple of sounds I recognize – Billy's gun followed by the roar of that fucking thing that sent me off the roof. Hope and desperation lend extra speed to my limp as I push back the pain, dizziness, and exhaustion. I want out of this town and my salvation is somewhere up ahead.

Two blocks up, I come around a corner and see the monster at a gas station halfway down the street. I don't see Billy, but I do hear his gun. I hobble onward and finally catch sight of the Marine as he digs into his pocket and pulls out something.

Billy must be out of bullets because I don't hear the magnum anymore. I can see him scrambling to get away from that beast, too. God-damn it! My hand reaches back, fumbling to get one of the last two grenades out of my pack.

Two become one as the other falls to the street and rolls away, clattering down into a sewage drain before I can catch it. Fuck. The whole situation is frustrating me to no end.

That motherfucking monster tried to kill me, and almost succeeded...

Billy's out of bullets and about to die...

I've gotten to the point where I actually LIKE Billy and he might even like me a little bit...

I'm tired, hurting, dirty, and hungry...

And, god-damn it, I wanna go home.

Neither Billy nor the monster realize I'm there yet and that suits me just fine. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what my larger friend was trying to do. The monster doesn't seem to handle fire well and I can smell gas all over the place. Oh-kay... Time to get the barbeque started.

I load that last napalm round into the launcher and jerk it closed, my narrowed gaze on the beast. There's a brief fear that I'll miss, but damn it, I'm too pissed to miss. I just have to get its attention away from Billy before I fire.

"Hey, fucker... CATCH!"

The bull-like thing turns around and I see Billy run like hell. I take an almost sadistic pleasure in putting that grenade right into the middle of the monster's back. It shrieks and starts thrashing around as the fuel ignites, giving it no reprieve. In less than a second, the creature is a flaming pile of screams and pain.

My view is obstructed by Billy, who stoops a bit so he can scoop me up into his arms, barely pausing in his run to get the hell away. I'm confused at first because he's so frantic, so I chance a look over his shoulder while we're leaving. And that's when it hits my befuddled brain...

... just what the fuck was I doing firing a napalm grenade anywhere near a GAS STATION?!

The resulting explosion sends us tumbling, shooting more pain through my ankle and back. Fortunately for me, Billy was doing his best to shield my body from the worst of the roll. I can see the surprise on his face as he sits up to check me over, to make sure I'm real and alive and uninfected.

"Hey, hotstuff," I giggle at him, loopier then ever. "Didja miss me?"

No, I'm not coherent right now and probably won't be for a while, thank you. I see him grinning once he's ascertained I won't keel over anytime soon. "You bet I did, gorgeous," he tells me as I lay my head against his shoulder. "That was damn good timing."

"I had a miracle," I murmur softly, trying to stay conscious. "I thought I'd share."

"Won't hear me bitch." Billy's damn near having to hold me upright by now, which just means either I've lost a lot of blood, or I took too many of those darvocets.

I get a weak hold on his arm, trying to stay steady. "Just don't make me to do it again tonight... I think I'm about out of surprises."

"Don't plan on it," he says as he scoops me up, cradling my body against his. "Now, c'mon... Let's find somewhere to hole up so I can tend that wound you picked up."

"Oh, okay," I murmur, barely aware of anything else but how warm he is and how safe I finally feel. "Good thing you're carrying me... I can't do anything that requires fighting gravity..."

I hear him chuckle as he starts walking. "You'll be all right, honey."

And that's the last thing I hear as I go out like the proverbial light.

---

So, I'm dreaming. I think.

It has to be a dream. I can feel warm hands against my skin, along my back... there's a soft bed under me... nevermind the jagged pain I can sense lingering somewhere in the background.

All these thoughts fade to abrupt nothingness as searing agony rips all along the line of my spine and I gasp, nearly screaming, as my eyes snap back open. I hear something hit a metal tray, but I'm not looking. I'm too busy trying to recenter my world again.

"Sorry 'bout that," I hear Billy say gently, one of his hands rubbing at the part of my shoulder which doesn't hurt. "There's no graceful way to get something like that out."

I am reminded that, the last two times I was awake, I was fighting for my life. This causes me to look around wildly as I try to get my bearings. "W-What? Where?"

My eyes lock on Billy and focus as he points to a piece of colored plexiglass sitting on a nearby hospital tray. "There." His other hand is pressing something against my bleeding shoulder, causing a fresh wave of pain to roll over me.

I blink, very confused. "Where'd you get that?" Coherency check? As if.

"Out of your shoulder," he says matter-of-factly, still causing me pain though he's not trying to.

I start putting two and two together, coming up with a reasonable four this time. "Oh," I murmur softly, settling back down against the bed under me. "So that's why it was hurting."

"Yeah, that'd be why," he says as he pulls the dressing away, checking to make sure there isn't anymore of the plastic in the wound. I become aware of the fact that I'm missing some articles of clothing: jacket and shirt, namely.

Call me stupid, but somehow, I'm not all that worried.

"Even if I'd known, I couldn't have done much," I say, trying to break the silence threatening to fall over us. I've got this rabid need to talk right now, get some reassurance that everything's okay. I'm still not completely aware of our surroundings, though, so my next question is viable. "How far from the hospital are we?"

"We're inside," he says, bringing me more hurt though he's trying so hard not to. I grit my teeth and clench my hand in the white sheet under me until my knuckles go pale from the grip. "I needed some supplies you didn't have in the backpack."

"Such as," I ask, trying to focus on his voice so I'm not whimpering like a child.

"Needle... thread... topical anesthetic..."

"... fuck." I have to ask, but I'm afraid to. "It's that bad?"

"It's that bad." His voice is gentle, but the affirmation of my fears doesn't make me feel any better.

I have to say something. I'm sure he knows how much pain he's causing me and, knowing what I know now, he wouldn't feel good about it. "... my first civilian battlescar." I follow it up with a weak chuckle, trying to lighten things.

"Congrats," he responds, slightly distracted as he pulls away the dressing to start applying the aforementioned anesthetic. "At least you've got an interesting story to go along with it."

"Can't tell it, though, unless I wanna get checked into a rubber room," I shoot back softly, settling down as the pain lessens a little.

He actually chuckles at that as he starts threading a suture needle. "There's that."

I like his chuckle... and hearing it helps me focus on something else... so I go for the medal-winning goal. "I've come to an important decision..." I bury my face against my arm so he can't see my weak grin.

"That being," he asks. He's waiting for the anesthetic to fully set in and for me to settle down comfortably.

It takes all I have to keep from laughing and to keep my face from giving me away. "From now on, I have a dislike of all things squishy... I don't even want to see Jell-O."

I hear nothing at first, so I dare a look over my shoulder. My eyes hit him just in time to see him start laughing his ass off. Good: my aim was dead on. I have to play with it some more though, because the joke would go to waste otherwise.

"You laugh, but it makes sense..."

He manages a breath in the middle of the mirth so he can speak. "That's *why* I'm laughing..." I join in with him, even though we're not out of the danger zone yet. It just feels too good to be able to laugh freely again.

Loopy or not, I'm keeping the momentum going. Laughter of this caliber has been long overdue. "If I haven't lost fifteen pounds by morning, I'll be surprised." I smirk as I shift my gaze back to him. "What a weight-loss program... You either bleed out the excess weight, lose a limb, or shit it out in fear."

Billy joins in gamely, his voice still amused. "Or all three. Shit, they oughta market this as some new fad diet. You know there're people out there who'd go for it."

"'Survivor: Umbrella.' Think we could syndicate it?"

He starts laughing even harder at that. "Probably."

I'm still running with the ball. "Well, there *might* be some copyright issues... and we'd need some prize money just in case there WAS a surviving contestant..." No more for me, I'm driving. I've been laughing so hard, my cheeks are starting to hurt.

Once we settle down, he shifts me a bit so he can start working on stitching the wound. Obviously the anesthetic's working, because I can barely feel the bite of that needle. "I'm not a trained doctor," he whispers after the first stitch, "so don't move around too much. This is gonna look bad enough as it is."

"I've had stitches before," I say as I reach out with my other hand and rest it on his knee. I need the reassurance of that touch, not to mention a grip if he does bite into a feeling nerve. "At least the one giving them to me's easy on the eyes this time around."

I feel him jump a bit under my hand before he shoots back his own joke. "I thought you weren't going to stroke my ego until this whole thing's over?"

"I'm doped to the gills and loopier than a box of cereal," I chuckle out, closing my eyes. "I can't keep track of everything that comes out of this mouth. Besides," I continue, “nothing screams sexy like someone willing to go all out to save your life.” I hear him give a short laugh at that. Carefully, my other hand (the one attached to the injured arm) slinks over to where my backpack is.

"Stop moving," he warns, halting his progress on the stitching job.

"I can't help it... I need a cigarette. I haven't had one since the last time we were together. Addictions outweigh minor medical attention, damn it." I get the carton open and pull out a fresh pack seeing as my opened pack was soaked completely through because of that waterbed.

I hear him chuckle a bit. "Needless to say, neither have I."

"That's because I'm a selfish bitch and tried to take everything with me," comes my rebuttal as I light up the smoke and take a blissful drag. I lift the cigarette carefully so he can have one, too. "Here."

I feel him take a pull and settle down yet again to smoke as he patches me up. "If this comes out okay, maybe you can take up quilting."

"Not on your fucking life," he snorts. Thank the gods his hands are steady.

"Too girlish?"

He pauses between stitches and I hear him snort again. "Too monotonous."

"I should have expected that, actually. You look like you'd be more comfortable under the hood of a car or truck." I take another draw off the coffin nail, looking at the wall. Holy hell, I hope he's about done.

"I am." I hear the sound of the scissors and then he's patting down a dressing against my shoulder, making sure the tape sticks around it. "There, that should hold."

I sit up carefully as he sits back then I toss the fresh pack of smokes into his lap. "There. Get some nicotine into you." I watch him shake a cigarette loose and then he indicates that he needs my lighter, too. I toss it with a chuckle. "Need a kick in the ass to get you started?"

"Had one, thanks."

I drag over my jacket and study it, my own cigarette planted firmly between my lips. "So, how come you're just a little banged up and I'm fucked up five ways from Sunday? I fail to see the fairness here..."

"Easy, I filled my quota on potentially life-threatening injuries the last time around."

I snort out a laugh at that. "Oh, I see... so this time it's 'Do what ever you want with the girl, just let me go,' huh?"

"Hardly," he says, half-indignant. "This time around, the girl had the shit luck."

"Story of my life," I shoot back as I ease myself into the jacket. There's a lot of discoloration around the hole in the back, which tells me I was bleeding the whole time. "Looks like I lost a lot of blood... so it's red meat, orange juice, and rest when we hit the homestead."

That's when I remember something and carefully push the backpack towards him. "The spare magnum rounds are in there if you need 'em." Billy nods at that and flicks the half-spent cigarette off to the side.

"If, she says," I hear him chuckle as he indeed reaches for the requisite pocket so he can reload.

"Better to say than to assume."

I settle on my side, watching his hands move as he quickly reloads the magnum clips. I can feel myself starting to drift in and out of consciousness – not good. I'm in sorry shape and I know it. Thank the gods Billy's better off than I am or we'd both probably be screwed.

Finally, he gets up and looks down at me. "Ready to go?"

"Oh, boy and how... but I'm fading," I whisper up at him, my eyes fighting just to stay focused on his face. I see him kneel down, feel his hand run over my hair, and resist the urge to close my eyes at the reassuring touch.

His voice is gentle again and he's trying to coax me into moving. "C'mon, Wendy... I can still carry you." Billy's hand takes mine, the one that isn't attached in any way to the bad shoulder, and helps hoist me up into a sitting position. Then, his shoulder dips and he pulls me over it. "Just think about the fact that it won't be long before you're in your own bed again, okay?"

"Trust me," I murmur softly, my body relaxing almost completely now. "I'm halfway to thinking I'm already there..." And, for the third time that night, I pass out. I think I wake briefly as I'm being settled back into a seat in the helicopter, but my mind's pretty fuzzy, so I can't really tell for certain.